Sally

Part 5

Not for those under 18 (or whatever the legal age for this sort of stuff is in your area). If you’re not that old, Boo! Go away now. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sexual activities, especially non-consensual ones, then don’t read this. All characters and situations are fictional.

Copyright 2024 greyscribbler@yahoo.com

Archived on the Read Only Mind web site by permission of the author. This story may be downloaded for personal archiving as long as this notice is retained.

“Are you listening to me?” Amelia demanded crossly the next day, the two friends arm in arm as they strolled through one of London’s parks. “Honestly, sometimes these days I wonder if there is a thought in your head.”

“Sorry,” Charlotte offered apologetically. She had been thinking. Just not about her friend.

“You can’t be interested in him!” Amelia protested as Charlotte’s head swivelled to follow the young man who had just passed them after tipping his at politely in their direction. “He’s such a dullard!”

Charlotte didn’t care what the qualities of the man’s intellect were. She was far more interested in the contents of his trousers than those of his head. She could picture herself, lying on a bed, legs spread, wet, waiting, eager. Just wanting him to-

“Charlotte!” Amelia’s voice cut across her friend’s daydreams. “You really are turning into a terrible flirt.”

Charlotte’s head snapped around. She’d still been looking at the man. Who’d stopped to look back at her.

“If you do want to encourage them,” her friend offered. “Don’t spend that long looking at them. Just enough to have them notice you. And don’t bat your eyelids so much. Just a little smile. And nod. Something to make them think they have a chance.”

A chance at what? Charlotte wondered. She knew what she wanted. What the man had to want.

“If you’re that desperate for wedded bliss, we shall have to see what we can do.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I want to be married,” Charlotte declared airily. Before she hurriedly added. “Just yet.”

“You could have fooled me,” Amelia grumbled as the two friends walked on.

Perhaps her friend had a point. If I was married, I could fuck.

Did she want that? Charlotte wasn’t sure. Every time a man passed them, tipping his hat and offering some polite words of greeting, she was wondering what his cock looked like. What it would feel like between her legs. She was so wet, thankful for the layers of clothing between herself and the world. Even so, the warm, wet feeling between her legs was ever-present, need making her breasts ache. How long was that cock? How broad was that one? How different would they feel as they plunged inside her? As she took them in her mouth? They’d all be wonderful. But they’d be different, too. If she was married she’d have to settle for just one. Could she do that? She’d have to. Anything else would be just too scandalous to consider. But it seemed a shame for there to be all those cocks out there and have to settle for just one.

“It doesn’t hurt to think about it,” Charlotte offered. “Marriage, I mean.”

“True,” Amelia allowed, barely sparing their next admirer a glance. “But it is an important decision. One can’t rush into these things. If one is to spend one’s life with someone there’s not just the heart to consider. Is he a good sort? Does he make you laugh? Will he make a good companion for life?”

Does he a have a good, long, cock?

Charlotte wasn’t going to say that.

“It really isn’t size that matters,” Sally declared as she reached for the hairbrush. “It’s what he does with it. But every cock can have its uses.”

Just how many lovers does she have? Charlotte wondered, as she looked at the pair’s reflections in the mirror. They looked so alike, despite the difference in dress, that they could be sisters. Twins, even.

“Did you like what you saw last night?” the servant asked, her fingers gently parting Charlotte’s hair. “When I took him in my mouth?”

“I, um, well,” Charlotte squirmed. She had liked it. The thought of a cock inside her was, well, wonderful. She was getting wet now, just thinking of it. But Sally speaking of it was uncomfortable to say the least.

“A man will do anything for you if you do it right,” her servant continued. “There’s an art to it, of course. Would you like me to teach you?”

“Uh.” Charlotte didn’t know what to say. Her servant definitely shouldn’t be talking to her like this.

“I can, you know,” Sally whispered, leaning into Charlotte’s ear, her hands lying lightly on Charlotte’s shoulders. The image in the mirror held the heiress mesmerised. “A lady’s maid is supposed to help her mistress with all sorts of things.”

That’s true. Charlotte knew that what her servant was offering wasn’t exactly a normal service.

“You want a cock inside you so much,” Sally breathed. “And if you want him to come back for more, then you have to do it properly. You don’t want him going somewhere else.”

That was true as well. If she found a good cock, she’d want as much of it as she could get.

“So,” Sally smiled. “A little training, I think.”

Charlotte wasn’t paying attention, her maid drawing her brush through her hair.

“What do you do when I brush your hair?” Sally asked.

“I go down and down and down.”

Charlotte did, her mind spiralling down, emptying of all thoughts. It was so warm and safe.

“You want to learn how to handle a cock,” Sally declared, a slight frown on the features that were so like Charlotte’s as she worked at a knot.

“I want to learn how to handle a cock.” Charlotte didn’t need to be told to repeat the words. She just did. Without thought. They sank into her, deep in her mind.

“You’ll want me to teach you.

“I want you to teach me.”

For a few moments, Sally said nothing else, simply brushing her mistress’ hair over and over. “I don’t have to,” the servant whispered at last. “I could…” She smiled wanly. “And that’s exactly what I say. So.” She nodded tightly, the brush paused in Charlotte’s hair. Then she started up again. “You want to be a good fuck.”

“I want to be a good fuck,” Charlotte echoed, her eyes so wide and empty.

“You want to be a good cocksucker.”

“I want to be a good cocksucker.”

Sally simply brushed her hair for a time, Charlotte unable to comprehend how long. The words sank into her empty mind.

“Put them together,” her servant said at last. “I want to be a good fuck. I want to be a good cocksucker.”

Charlotte did. There was no thought. “I want to be a good fuck. I want to be a good cocksucker.”

“Again,” her servant ordered.

“I want to be a good fuck. I want to be a good cocksucker.” If Charlotte could have thought about her voice she’d have found it so empty, so flat. Like her mind was so empty, just waiting to be filled.

“Again,” Sally repeated, slowly drawing the brush through Charlotte’s hair, banishing any chance of thought. “Keep saying it until you believe it.”

“I want to be a good fuck. I want to be a good cocksucker.”

“I want to be a good fuck. I want to be a good cocksucker.”

Charlotte didn’t know when she stopped saying it. She’d need to be able to think to do that.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to fuck,” Charlotte answered her servant, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop. They were so crude. But something about them had the same feelings tumbling though her body as when she had watched Sally with her lovers. “I want a cock inside me. I want to be a good fuck. I want to be a good cocksucker.”

Sally didn’t respond, Charlotte filled with an embarrassment nearly as hot as the feelings that ran through her. She had to say something. “If one is to do something one should do it properly.”

“Just so, Miss,” Sally replied softly, turning the hairbrush over and over in her hands. “So we need something long and hard and…” She held up the brush, a thin smile on her face.

Charlotte’s head snapped around, staring at the brush. She can’t mean? Can she? There was a resemblance. Charlotte had seen two cocks now. The handle of her brush wasn’t the same. No-one would look at it and just think ‘Oh that looks like a cock’. But it was thick and round and after what she’d seen it was close enough and-

“Kiss the tip,” the servant ordered, holding the brush by the wrong end, the handle with its rounded end right there, just in front of Charlotte’s lips. Could she do this? If she did this, would she do it for a real cock? Would she want to?

“That’s it.” Sally’s voice pierced what passed for thought in Charlotte’s head. The heiress gasped as she realised that her head had bent forward, her lips kissing the tip of the brush’s handle, almost without thinking about it. “Just a little kiss. So easy to do. Close enough to a cock, isn’t it? Not the real thing of course, but, well.”

“Now open wide, Miss,” Sally ordered.

Charlotte did. Part of her didn’t want to. But she trusted Sally.

“Not quite that wide,” her servant laughed. “Better. Wrap your lips around it. It’s so hard, isn’t it? You love that feeling. Wrapping your lips around something long and hard. It feels so good.”

Charlotte didn’t want to admit it, but it did. She had something long and hard in her mouth and it felt wonderful, a tingle spreading through her right down to her toes, a heat that was demanding more pooling between her legs.

“Now draw back, not quite letting it out of your mouth. Then forward. We’ll need to work on how to judge the speed. You need to keep your eyes on his, to know just what it is he likes. And you’ll need to know how to use your tongue. Just occasionally the teeth. The right sort of graze along his length…” There was a look in Sally’s eyes that was almost dreamlike. Did the servant enjoy having a cock in her mouth? From the look on her face the previous night Charlotte thought it likely.

“But this will do for now.”

Charlotte’s head bobbed back and forth. Just like hers. The image popped into her mind, of Sally’s head bobbing back and forth on Wilson’s cock. The heat between her legs glowed hotter.

What would someone think if they came into her room now? Saw her sitting there, her lips wrapped around the handle of the brush as Sally held it? Would they know what it was Charlotte was doing? Charlotte didn’t care, something about the idea of someone seeing her sending another delicious wave through her.

“The brush isn’t enough,” Sally declared, pulling it from Charlotte’s mouth. The heiress couldn’t help a shooting her servant a moue of displeasure. It hadn’t been a cock, but it had been so good having something hard inside her. “I’ll need something else to teach you how to use your tongue.”

Before Charlotte could say anything, two of Sally’s fingers were inside her mouth. “Swirl your tongue around my fingers. Not bad, but firmer. He needs to feel it. Yes, like that.” Sally’s fingers were thrusting in and out of her mouth. Just like a cock might, she told herself. But a cock would be larger and firmer and she wanted one so much.

I want to be a good cocksucker. She wanted that so much.

So she licked and sucked and swirled her tongue. And did everything Sally told her. On her servant’s fingers. On the handle of the hairbrush. She didn’t know for how long. She didn’t care. Sally told her that this would make her a good cocksucker. She trusted Sally.

“That’s a good start,” her servant declared at last. “There’s a lot more you need learn but we’ll get to that. We can do this every day, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please,” Charlotte nodded. She wanted to be a good cocksucker. “I’d like that.”

“You can practice by yourself,” Sally said. “Here, take it,” she added, offering her mistress the brush. “Hold it still and move your head.”

Charotte did just as Sally said, cautiously at first, and then more certainly. It felt so good.

“Enough for now. Your mother is expecting you for lunch.”

Charlotte wondered, as her mother dominated the conversation, what she’d think if she knew what her daughter had been doing. She’d probably be horrified. Scandalised. Charlotte didn’t care. She knew what she wanted. What she needed.

“Are you listening to me?” Charlotte’s mother demanded.

“Yes, mother,” Charlotte replied dutifully, wishing only to lose herself in her desires.

That night, as she lay in bed, Charlotte had nothing to distract her. One hand played at her body while the other one held the brush while she sucked at the handle.

It felt so good.

As the days went by, Charlotte could tell she was getting better, her lips knowing just what to do, her tongue swirling and playing around that firm length. Sally guiding her, teaching her.

“You’ll make a good cocksucker,” her servant declared as Charlotte’s head bobbed back and forth. “But that’s not what you want most, is it?”

No, Charlotte thought. She couldn’t speak. Not with her lips locked around the brush’s handle. I want to fuck.

“You want to fuck.”

Charlotte would have smiled if she could have.

“Well, how are we to arrange that?” Sally asked innocently. “There is marriage of course. But these things take time. And well, a husband is just one cock. Do you really want to wait that long for so little?”

Charotte stopped abruptly, mid-bob. She can’t be serious. Charlotte’s mind was a whirl. She can’t be suggesting that I, I…

“Of course, you could take a lover,” her servant continued, Charlotte staring at her in mute horror. “But such a risk if you were discovered. If it was known that the Honourable Miss Charlotte Rothermere had a lover, she’d be ruined, wouldn’t she?”

That’s true, Charlotte agreed, relief sweeping through her as she resumed bobbing up and down on the brush.

“So we can’t do that,” Sally mused. “Not quite so hard! You’re not trying to suck it off him! There. Better.”

Dutifully, Charlotte eased off, her lips still cocked around the handle.

“But you know who can fuck?” Sally smiled. “Me! There’s Wilson and Evans and… Well, you’ll see. So Sally the lady’s maid can fuck but the Honourable Miss Charlotte Rothermere cannot. But you want to, so much, don’t you?”

Gently, Sally pulled the handle from Charlotte’s mouth. “Don’t you?” she asked again.

“Yes,” Charlotte nodded. “I want to fuck.”

“Well, the answer is obvious, don’t you think?” There was a mischievous glint in Sally’s eyes.

Charlotte had no idea what her servant was talking about.

Sally shook her head. “Oh, come now. You’re not that dim. Sally the lady’s maid can fuck. You’ve already been me. Those little walks back and forth to my room. Anyone who saw you, anyone you spoke to, thought you were me. All you would have to do is do that. Come to my room. Meet a man there. And fuck.”

Charlotte’s eyes shot wide. “No, what?” She couldn’t do that. She just simply couldn’t. It was too much of a risk. Something too big, too awful, to even to consider. No matter how much she might want to well, do that thing that she’d seen Sally do, the thought of actually doing it herself was too much. And doing it as Sally suggested…

The thought trailed away. As Charlotte had sat there, lost in confusion, her maid had dried the handle of the brush and was now using it on her mistress’ hair.

Charlotte’s thoughts drained away. All the worry, all the confusion, disappearing into a void where every thought in her head was lost.

“So deep,” Sally whispered, gentle stroke after gentle stroke pulling Charlotte further and further down. “Just listening to my voice. You trust me. You want to fuck. You can fuck if you pretend to be me. Say ‘I’ll pretend to be you so I can fuck’.”

“I, I’ll p-pretend to be you so I can f-fuck.” Even with no thoughts in her head and a voice so empty, Charlotte stumbled over the words.

“Yes,” Sally nodded, stroking gently stoking Charlotte’s hair with one hand as the other drew her brush through her mistress’ long locks. “This one is so hard. I know. It will be alright. Trust me. This is what you want. Let’s try again. I’ll pretend to be you so I can fuck.”

“I’ll p-pretend to be you so I can f-f-fuck.”

“Again,” Sally ordered, never stopping that soft, calming brushing of Charlotte’s hair. Over and over, the rhythm of it washing through the heiress’ mind. Stopping everything except the words Sally spoke. “I’ll pretend to be you so I can fuck.”

“I’ll pretend to be you so I can fuck.”

“Good. Now let’s try that a few more times.

“I’ll pretend to be you so I can fuck.”

“I’ll pretend to be you so I can fuck.”

“Do you want to do that then?’ Sally asked after she’d finished with her mistress’ hair. “It will be so naughty. But such fun. Pretending to be me for a night so you can fuck.”

“Yes,” Charlotte replied despite the butterflies swarming in her stomach. She wasn’t she sure how much of it was nervousness and how much of it was hot, liquid, need. “I’ll pretend to be you so I can fuck. I want to fuck. I want a cock inside me.”

“Yes you do,” Sally beamed. “So now we just have to find the right opportunity.”

Charlotte sat there, staring at her image in the mirror, trying to fight the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her. Everything will be all right, she tried telling herself.

She trusted Sally.

(To be continued)